Many people would agree that getting lost at a trade fair is easy, especially if you’ve got a terrible sense of direction.
The day I got lost was entirely different.
I was working. Theoretically. My colleague Frank and I were sent to represent our food company at one of the country’s biggest trade fair. It’s not a great job. No, it sucks. Our boss couldn’t be bothered to pay for any of the extra baggage. No compensation for traveling, and no extra pay for setting up the stall. Even worse, our hours were long, we’d have to man the stall from early morning until late in the afternoon, and pretend to be as happy to be there as the fair’s many visitors. All the while, our boss insisted we wore those ridiculous caps with our company’s name on it.
Yet Frank and I had a little arrangement to make the best of our shitty situation. The man had been in the trade business for most of his life, and knew trade fairs inside-out. He explained things would go slowly in the early morning and the late evening. During those times, one person was enough to man the stall, allowing the other to roam the place, relax, or take a quick nap.
The fair we attended that day was huge. It was held at a giant, sprawling building complex comprising various halls, outer areas, restaurants and much more, all connected by a maze-like network of hallways. It was the equivalent of a small town. After we’d finished getting the stall ready for business, Frank volunteered to take care of the morning shift. I quickly agreed. I’d wanted to have a look around ever since we arrived. Usually, it wasn’t a luxury we could afford, since we’re trapped in our stall.
I liked food, especially meat, and when I saw that an entire hall centered on exotic meat products, I had to check it out. I wished Frank the best of luck, stuffed the stupid cap in my pocket, and set out on my merry way. Being the idiot I am, I just started walking, and promptly got lost. The place really was huge, gigantic even, and worse, everything looked the same. After finding and tinkering with one of the interactive map displays, I first figured out where I was, and where I had to go: Hall 19. It wasn’t long before I got lost again. In frustration, I consulted another map display, and learned I’d somehow taken a wrong turn, and was no in Hall 12.
Great, that was in an entirely different wing of the complex. This time, I snapped a picture of the map and followed it to the letter. Whenever I entered a new hall, I checked the big sign telling me which one it was, and cross-checked my position on the map. I left Hall 12, walked past Hall 11, and eventually through Hall 9. All that was left was to cross Hall 14, and I’d reached my goal.
After crossing Hall 14, however, and following another hallway, I suddenly found myself in front of Hall 24. I was dumbfounded and pulled out my phone again. For almost a minute, I went over the map, but no matter how much I searched, I couldn’t find a Hall 24. The highest hall number I found was 22. Still confused, and not sure what to do, I entered Hall 24. After stumbling around for a while, I found another map display. The small red dot told me I was indeed in Hall 24. I frowned. How the hell was there even a Hall 24?
When I compared the map in front of me to the one on my phone, I noticed that it was entirely different. It was bigger, and several halls had been added to it. For a moment, a strange feeling washed over me, and my eyes darted around looking for… I don’t know what. Everything around me was normal. Visitors were checking out stalls, talking to sales representatives or indulging in the various samples.
Soon enough, something made me look up. So far, I’d hurried over the fair, not giving any of the stalls a closer look. Now that I did, I noticed how strange their products were. Right in front of me, a stall was presenting a fruit called Fallarius. By that point, I’d been working in the food industry for almost a decade, and considered myself having a solid grasp on it. Yet in all those years, I’d never heard of a Fallarius. When I googled it, I came up with a big, fat zero.
With my interest piqued, I approached the stall. Who knows, it might be one of those weird new mix-breeds that had grown in popularity. Even from afar, I could already smell a sweet, almost alluring fragrance. The fruit I saw, however, looked unlike anything I’d ever seen before. It was a slimy, bright orange thing, covered in spiky fur. The moment I’d made it to the counter, the smell was so strong, I couldn’t help but reach out for it in fascination. Yet when my fingers made contact, the thing twitched, produced a disgusting wet squeak, and a disgusting, rancid liquid spurted from it. Cursing, I cringed back, landing me a few annoyed glances and even more giggles.
For a few moments, I stood there, staring at the stall and the weird orange fruit in confusion, wondering what the hell that thing was. Then I shook my head, and instead of pondering on it, went on my way. Phone in hand, and staring at my map, I tried to backtrack my route. After following what I assumed to be the same hallway I’d entered from, I should’ve been back in Hall 14. Yet when I entered, the hall’s layout was entirely different, even the air was. It was stale and oppressive, and I soon saw why.
The sign told me I’d somehow ended up in Hall 27. How the hell…? I’d followed the same damned hall! I should be back in Hall 14! My eyes darted around. To my right should be an exit leading to the outer area, but it was just… gone. Instead, I saw another hallway, one that supposedly led to Hall 31. I laughed. What the hell was going on? There shouldn’t be a Hall 31. Hell, there shouldn’t even be a Hall 27, and I should be in freaking Hall 14! At least, if I was to trust the map on my phone.
For the next few minutes, I stumbled on, trying my best to ignore the strange, unknown products all around me. Here and there, I stopped, desperately searching for a map display, but I found none. Suddenly, someone called out to me.
“Can I help you, sir?”
When I turned around, I saw an info desk worker. The woman had stopped a few meters away from me and must’ve noticed my predicament.
“Yeah, sorry, I guess I got lost,” I admitted, giving her an embarrassed laugh.
The woman laughed, too, or rather, giggled. It was a strange, throaty giggle. When I focused on her, I saw that most of her face was hidden behind thick strands of greasy hair.
“I’ve been trying to find Hall 19, but the maps are…”
My voice trailed off. The longer I stared at that woman, the more I felt that something was wrong with her. She just stood there, and I watched as she pulled out a crude electronic contraption and focused on it.
“Problem with maps,” she started, her voice much quieter now, half-whispered.
It sounded entirely wrong, and was slightly crackling, as if there was a metallic component to it, reminding me of a faulty recording. It was grating, and every word stabbed in my ears.
“Old version,” she finally added.
What the hell was she going on about? This was one of the biggest, most prestigious fairs in the entire country. Why’d they display old versions of the map, and how’d they added more than a dozen new buildings to the complex? No, this didn’t at up. Not at all!
“Where you want to go, sir?” she asked in her strange, half-whispered voice.
She still hadn’t moved and still hadn’t bothered to brush aside her hair. Once again, I couldn’t help but wonder what was wrong with her, with her voice! Her English was over-accentuated, but it also sounded like it took her tremendous effort to bring out each individual word. I hesitated.
“Hall 19,” I eventually said.
“Not far.”
With that, she turned around and started walking. The way she moved was as unnatural as the way she spoke. Instead of stepping forward, she merely shuffled her feet, dragging herself forward as if something was wrong with her legs. It made her entire body move in a shambling motion.
“Coming, sir?” she asked after a few moments, but didn’t even bother to look around.
Instead of moving on, I watched her. A voice in the back of my head told, not to follow her. This woman wasn’t normal!
“No. I mean… I’m sure I can find it on my own. Thank you very much.”
Without waiting for her to say anything, I hurried away. I half-ran past stalls and visitors. Only when I’d made it past a corner did I feel safe enough to relax. I took a deep breath before I looked around again, trying to find my bearings.
After only a few seconds, I had the same half-whispered voice again. An icy shower went down my spine.
“Can I help you, sir?”
It sounded exactly the same as before. The same grating, mechanical, and over-accentuated English. When I looked over my shoulder, I saw her. She was only a few meters behind me, staring at me from behind those thick, greasy strands of hair. I couldn’t help but shiver. Why the hell was she following me? What did she want?
Instead of saying anything, I jerked around and dashed towards a hallway, and fled to another hall.
The one I ended up in was even more different. Things didn’t add up anymore. The layout made no sense. The stalls had been placed haphazardly, without rhyme or reason. When I checked the sign above to find out where I’d ended up at, I couldn’t help but laugh. It was a mad, frustrated, almost futile laugh. Where the hall number should’ve been, I saw nothing but strange symbols. The stalls, too, were covered in them.
The products presented were even stranger than the Fallarius I’d seen before. They were alien and seemed half alive. A nearby stall sold jars filled with giant, wriggling maggots. Another comprised nothing but purplish moss, and yet another was selling what I could only assume were colonies of twitching skin.
I rushed past stalls, and the disgusting… products they offered. It was madness, nothing but pure madness. The air was heavy with exotic, otherworldly smells, their fragrance so strong, I had to cover my nose not to gag. Where the hell was I? How had I gotten here? An overwhelming feeling of being lost, of not belonging, came over me. My heart was pounding in my chest, my breath came in hard, long bursts, and eventually I couldn’t go on anymore.
I pushed myself between two stalls, far away from the bustle of visitors, and closed my eyes. Don’t give into it. You’re okay. Just calm down, idiot, and find your way back.
Yet when I opened my eyes, I realized it wasn’t just the stalls and products that were strange. The people were, too. They were all acting normal, but the way they moved, the way their limbs worked, it was just… wrong. I watched as they took long strides, wider than any normal person could, watched as their bodies almost jerked forward.
As I focused on one of these people, I couldn’t help but think someone had taken them apart and put together the wrong way. They were human, yes, but certain details didn’t add up. Their arms seemed backwards, their facial features slightly warped, and their torsos-
No, don’t focus on it. Just find your way back. Fuck Hall 19, and get back to where you came from. After taking another breath, I approached one of the strange people all around me, a woman. I tried my best to ignore her weird, elongated body and her strange, warped face.
“Excuse me, I’m trying to get back to Hall 7, but I’m-“
My voice trailed off when I noticed her wide eyes and confused expression. A fearful noise escaped my mouth before she cringed back. As she did, I saw the way her legs moved. Too many joints, I thought, they had too many joints.
In a single motion, she turned away from me, twisting her torso around itself. Then, she ran, moving erratically, like a marionette pulled along by strings.
For a moment, I could only stand there and stare at the surreal spectacle with wide-open eyes. Then, I heard the same strange, half-whispered voice from nearby. Sweat broke out all over my body. It’s a coincidence. Nothing but a coincidence.
Yet when I turned around, I saw her. The same woman. This time, she wasn’t alone. Accompanying her was a pair of security guards. They both looked as strange as she did, but were much bigger, muscular, and I shivered when I noticed their shambling movements.
When they turned in my direction, I ran. No, I shouldn’t… couldn’t be found by them! And yet, when I looked over my shoulder, all three were staring after me. I dashed away, turned right, then left, past haphazardly placed stalls, not sure what I was running from. As I did, I pulled out the damned cap I’d pocketed, and threw away my jacket. It wasn’t much, but maybe, just maybe, it would keep her from recognizing me. Yet the layout of the hall was too disorienting. There was no place to hide, no way to cut them off, and I knew it was only a matter of time before they found me.
Then I noticed a tight-knit group nearby, making their way toward another hallway. In an instant, I ran in their direction, trying to mingle and hide between them. When I reached them, I saw how wrong they all were. Some were too short, others too tall. Some were shambling around while others were hunched over, dragging themselves forward. In-between, children were running here and there. They were moving on all fours, more like animals than human beings. When one of them focused on me, I saw glaring, feline eyes.
I pulled the cap deeper into my face before I pushed myself past the strange gathering and entered the hallway ahead. It differed from any I’d seen so far. It was small, constricting, more a tunnel or cave than anything else. The floor was dirty, the walls as if carved from stone, and the only light that reached me came from randomly placed, yellowed lamps.
As strange as the place was, I told myself to hurry on. Driven by an almost primal fear of the woman and her companions, I ran and eventually entered the hall at its end.
I’d barely taken a few steps inside when I noticed how outlandish this place was. It wasn’t an orderly market hall, but neither one of the disorienting, haphazardly thrown together ones. No, this place didn’t feel like it had been planned or constructed. It looked more like a shanty town, a place that had grown bigger and bigger over a long period.
The ground was as dirty as that of the hallway, covered in a variety of dark stains and sticky liquids. I saw caskets and boxes everywhere, empty cages, and even chunks of discarded rotten meat. The air was so heavy with the stink of raw meat, blood, and the disgusting sweet smell of rot, my eyes watered, and I gagged.
In an instant, I pushed myself past empty crates and behind a stack of boxes. What the hell was this place? My eyes darted around, trying to figure out where I’d ended up at. Eventually, I found a sign, the hall’s number, but it was all wrong. At first, I didn’t know what it said, but after a few seconds, I managed to decipher it. It was supposed to say Hall 37, but the numbers were backwards and distorted. They looked as if written by someone who’d never seen a real number before.
That’s when it clicked. It wasn’t just the sign, it was this entire place. This wasn’t a fair or a market hall. It was an imitation, one that was all wrong. The people, the things populating this place, they too, were nothing but cheap imitations of the human form. They wore mismatched pieces of clothing, ones either too small or too big, and shoes that didn’t fit. Their entire forms were warped, as if something horrible, and twisted was hidden below these outfits.
When I focused on one such person, sweat broke out all over my body. A nervous chuckle almost escaped my mouth, and I had to scream at myself to stay right where I was. What I’d thought to be a face wasn’t. It was a mask, a drawing of a happy face frozen in a perpetual half-smile, but it was too simple, too cheap, and reminded me of a child’s crayon drawing.
The strange person shuffled past my hiding place, but then stopped in front of a stall, or something that was supposed to be one. It was nothing but a crude construction made from wood and rubble, an amalgamation of trash. Hooks dangled from it here and there, each sprouting a chunk of raw, bloodied meat.
I watched as the thing approached the hooks. In a single swift motion, it tore down a dangling chunk and pushed it under its mask. For a few seconds, it chewed on the meat. I froze in terror, and could only listen to the sounds of flesh being ground apart, and finally, bones snapping. Then a bloated, black tongue slithered out from under the mask and licked pinkish goo from a stained, misshapen hand.
Oh god, please go away, please go away, I prayed while the creature stared at the remaining chunks of meat. I froze when it turned around, turned in my direction. Yet it didn’t notice me, and a moment later, it shuffled on.
By now, I saw that a similar creature was manning the stall, one wearing another of the crayon-masks. A strange, grunt-like sound escaped its mouth when it noticed the empty hook. I watched in confusion as it approached something covered by a piece of clothing. It was a cage, and for a moment, it moved the cloth aside to check what was inside.
When it did, I heard something: sobbing. The sobbing that was unmistakably that of a human being. Another grunt. The cloth went back down, and the creature vanished behind the stall, tearing aside a curtain I hadn’t noticed before. I only saw it for a moment, but I could’ve sworn I saw a table covered in blood and gore, and something that might once have been a human being.
I barely covered my mouth to drown out the scream that had wanted to escape it. Then, still huddled between crates and boxes, I realized what all those stains, those fluids on the floor around me, had to be. Blood. Human blood. Then those chunks of raw meat… Oh god.
This time, I could do nothing but throw up right where I was. Almost instantly, heads turned in my direction, heads sprouting the same smiling crayon-faces. In a frantic motion, I stumbled out from between crates and boxes.
I heard angry grunts. Saw misshapen hands reach out for me. But I made it. I ran before any of them could reach me. I rushed past the non-stalls the creatures had erected, and then back into the dark, tunnel-like hallway.
Run! Don’t look up back. Just run! I’d almost made it, almost.
When suddenly, a hand closed around my arm.
“Can I help you, sir?”
The same words, the same damned words. The same over-accentuated voice. As if to mock me, the strange woman, the thing in front of me, repeated them once more.
“Can I help you, sir?”
This time, I realized what was wrong with her voice. It wasn’t the half-whispering, and neither the over-accentuated English. It was an imitation. Another cheap imitation of a human voice, one that was all wrong.
“No, let me go! Let me fucking go!” I screamed at the thing.
I tore at the arm holding me in place, twisted my body, only to be pulled backward. At that moment, the woman’s hair was thrown aside, and I could finally make out her face. I cringed back. It wasn’t one of the crayon-like fakes. No, it looked almost real. Almost. It was a mask, but one made of skin, lifeless human skin. And then, something moved, something that was hidden below. It was twitching, trying to imitate human emotions, trying to warp the mask into a crude approximation of a grin.
I screamed in terror, tried once more to get away, but it was too late. The commotion had been noticed. From the entrance of the not-hall, hulking, shambling figures made their way towards us. By now, they weren’t even trying to keep their imitation alive. No, all that remained of it were the empty, half-smiling crayon-faces.
“Can I help you, sir?” the thing next to me repeated once more.
This time, the words came out in the same throaty giggle I’d heard before. The image of those cages returned to me, of the hooks, and the chunks of meat dangling from them. That would be me. This was what awaited me.
And then, my fear, my terror, was pushed aside by rage. No, it wouldn’t. I was not livestock. My free hand shot forward, and I tore apart the disgusting, dead skin covering the creature’s face. What I saw below was nothing but twisted flesh and scar tissue. And yet, it wasn’t all. There were holes, countless holes from which sprouted thousands of twitching, wriggling feelers it had used to imitate the movement of facial muscles, of expressions.
An inhuman shriek, one of shock and outrage, escaped its mouth, and its hand let go of me. As the thing covered its face, I dashed away.
I was out of the tunnel, then back in the disorganized market hall. I didn’t look back, didn’t want to see what was coming after me. No, I just ran.
My legs led me through hall after hall, each stranger as the one before. They were all twisted and wrong. One was built vertically, with market stalls stacked on top of one another continuously. The entire place was populated by skittering human-insect hybrids. Another was populated by stalls that seemed to have grown and were more alive than the beings moving between them. The air was heavy with the smell of sweat, and the floor was drowned in bodily fluids. Here and there, stalls reached out for me, or gurgled at me to get closer, to check out their products. More than once figures pointed and stared at me. Some cringed away, for I was as alien to them as they to me. Yet sometimes, they tried to restrain me, to hold me in place.
In sheer and utter panic, functioning purely by adrenaline, I ran on. My lungs were burning, blood rushed through my veins, and my legs were getting weaker. I had no goal, no direction. I just ran, trying desperately to flee from the surreal place my world had become.
Then I collided with someone stepping out in front of me. I stumbled, lost my balance, and crashed to the floor. Cursing, I fought myself back up and was about to rush on when a hand closed around my arm. I could already hear the same words, the same question, saw the same twisted face made of scar tissue, and wriggling feelers. I screamed, tried to tear myself away, and eventually got free.
Then reality replaced imagination, and I found myself face to face with a man who looked entirely human, a security guard. No, it’s a fake, another ploy, I told myself, and stumbled on. One step. Another. Then I crashed to the ground once more, panting.
My eyes darted around, searching for hulking, shambling figures, for twisted non-stalls, but everything was normal. All I saw were normal human beings and faces. Some showed concern, others confusion. A group of teenagers snickered behind their hands. I even saw a couple dragging their young son away the moment I stared at them. Yet they were all unmistakably human.
By now, the security guard had motioned for his colleagues to come over. As they stood in front of me, their mouths moved, yet my brain didn’t function. Once more, one of them got a hold of me, and pulled me to my feet. In an instant, I tore myself free again.
“The hell’s the matter with him?” one of them asked. Another mentioned the words drunk and drugs.
I finally opened my mouth and began rambling on about being followed, being hunted down before I closed it again.
“You saw what? Someone following you?”
My voice trailed off when I saw how they stared at me. It was clear they didn’t believe a single word I was saying.
“I think it’s best if you leave the premise, sir,” the one holding my arm eventually said, or rather, commanded.
With that, they escorted me from the complex. Still confused, but more than relieved, I made my way to our hotel.
When Frank arrived, he was pissed. While I sat on the bed, he laid into me. He ranted on about where I’d been, what I thought I was doing, and told me he’d inform our boss about me skipping out on the job. I only half-listened, still plagued by what I’d seen mere hours ago. Eventually, Frank got a hold of my collar and pulled me up.
“The fuck’s the matter with you, Danny!?”
At first, I only stared at his angry face, but then I opened my mouth.
“I don’t know. I think I got… lost? No, never mind.”
When Frank heard this, his eyes grew wide. He let go of me, and all the anger on his face evaporated.
“What happened? What did you see?”
Instead of answering, I shook my head.
“You wouldn’t believe me, anyway,” I muttered, quietly.
For a while longer, he held my gaze before he grumbled something and left it at that.
Later that evening, when the two of us went out to have some beers, I finally opened up to him. Frank listened without saying a word. Once I was done, I couldn’t help but laugh, and told him I must be overworked, or had a panic attack. Frank didn’t join in. Instead, his face grew dark, and I saw how tense he’d become.
“No, you did get lost.”
“What are you-?”
“Listen, Danny,” he started, his hands trembling. “These days, they make these places, these fairs, too damn big. There’s too many people. It’s only natural that some get lost or end up in… places they don’t belong. Happens all the time, but no one ever talks about it.”
“How do you…?”
Frank didn’t answer. Instead, he just sat there, staring at his beer, his shoulders slouched over, avoiding my eyes.
“Best thing you can do is not wander around, and stay at your stall,” he finally muttered, his voice no more than a whisper.
When I looked up again, I saw his expression, the anxious look that now filled it. For the next couple of minutes, I pressed him to tell me what he meant. I asked him if he’d gotten lost himself, but Frank never said a word about it.
It’s been years since it all happened. I’m not working with Frank anymore, and neither do I work at trade fairs. I just… couldn’t do it. Whenever I went near those giant, disorienting halls, and saw the countless people entering them, I was pushed into a state of almost-panic.
As the years went by, however, what had happened that day slowly became nothing but distant memories.
Just recently, I visited one of our local trade fairs with a friend of mine. As we walked from hall to hall, I couldn’t help but look around and scan my surroundings. I saw them. I saw the few people who seemed bewildered and confused, who seemed lost. It’s always people who are a tad bit different, a tad bit wrong. People who just don’t seem to belong.
I also noticed those who prey on them and heard their half-whispered voices. Imitations that are nearly good enough, but also entirely wrong: info desk workers, security guards, and even sales representatives.
And I can also see them lead those who are lost away, lead them into directions that shouldn’t go anywhere, or that lead them somewhere else entirely.
